


There Are All Your Intentions Drained Dry

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Vampire High
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Community: femslashficlets, F/F, Human/Vampire Relationship, Kinda Dark, Merrill/Drew Hinted, Romance, Twisted, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was easier if you just slid right on through, not soaking up anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Are All Your Intentions Drained Dry

**Author's Note:**

> Written for femslashficlets for prompt #24 - kiss.

The way her lips glided over your own. The chill deep down in your bones, a reminder that everything was going to be okay.

It was easier if you didn’t label life as ups and downs, easier if you just slid right on through knowing inherently that you belonged to the sickness, the failure, the inane but no less powerful sense of loss as well as everyone else did. It was easier to get mad, to throw things at actual walls rather than just the walls of your mind.

_You’re not a sponge, Merrill._

It was easier to lose control.

Right here.

Just like this.

The way she looked at you explained the urge to grip her head, forcing her to look at you like that forever. It would be such a simple thing, but rewards like that weren’t meant to last. She would grow hard then soft then even paler. She would resent the very thing that you are.

There was nothing to take in this world without consequences, nothing to name your own. Absolutely no prizes, no possessions, no will, only the remnant of one clouded by all others.

There were no true emotions anymore, you thought, your fingernail extending and tracing a sorrowful song of red along her forehead, the essence of her soaking into her eyebrow and running along the corner of her eye, dipping in slowly like ink staining parchment.

There was your belief that you felt happy, rage, agony, yet these “feelings” were used up so long ago by your betters. It was like shoving your tongue into sand, hoping to find water.

Like mouthing at an already dried vein, only the memory of blood present to serve you.

You could take her. Anyone watching knew you had done it countless times before. You could drain her dry and tie her up at the scattered remains of your sanity, her piercing eyes on you for all the eternity you’ll end up remembering.

But now you’ll focus on the kiss, the only thing that seemed certain.

You’ll hold on, by a mere thread, hold onto the kiss that breathed life back into your withered veins. The peppermint of her breath ghosting over your lips and then dead hands, her teeth nipping at your gums, as if she were feeding from you.

 _Sherry._ Her very saliva like sweet nectar. The human who your One would defy all laws for, the human who took one look at you and claimed she saw light. The word cracked your intentions and the honey poured underneath your skin.

It felt as if tasting the kiss was your only recourse left.

Then again, there are no feelings left.

Only imprints. 

**FIN**


End file.
